Fleet of Foot
by JimVan
Summary: A disheartened druid, accused of treason, stands before the court faced with execution. As his tale unfolds, it becomes clear that not all heroes bear the glory and fame as sung by the Alliance...
1. The Teacher

Disclaimer: If you can't guess what this is supposed to say, you're either new to fanfiction or you've got a short memory span. I don't own WoW.

Author: Howdy WoW ficcies! It's that weirdo Jim'Van on the blower. I may not be the biggest WoW fanatic in the world, but I hope I've done my homework enough to know what makes a good fic about it. I originally planned horror and suspense for this story, but after the first few pages I could see it wasn't happening. Still, hope you enjoy this. Have fun, readers!

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Fleet of Foot

Chapter 1: The Teacher

The druid bent down over the pot, taking care not to pull too hard and rip the roots, gently working the plant from the earth. He could hear their excited chattering behind him. A flicker of a smile crossed the night elf's face before he turned slowly, holding the uprooted shoots of morrowgrain in one gloved hand. He walked back to the sleepy, but excited human children watching him from the stone benches under the steely pre-dawn light.

"What's he doing?"

"He's going to use the plant to cast a spell, silly. Just like we're going to learn to do!"

"Yeah! He's gonna throw 'em down and make some of those cool living tree thingys!"

"No, stupid! He's gonna eat 'em to grow those thorn things on his skin!"

"No way! He'll turn himself into a tree! Just like those huge things in the night elf city!"

Any other druid would have laughed at the childrens' wild theories, but it had been years since this particular night elf had laughed. Well, genuinely anyway.

The childrens' wild chattering died down as the druid stepped up to them and held out the shoots of morrowgrain.

"Now, children…" he said in his deep, monotone voice. "Who can tell me what this is?"

A dozen hands immediately shot up, and the druid scoffed inwardly as he knew full well not one of them knew what it was, they were just trying to get his attention or a couple of words of praise from him. He nodded slowly at one of the younger children.

"Bristleweed?" the little girl gushed enthusiastically. Immediately, the other children snickered, knowing, just as the druid did, that she had simply made the answer up.

The corner of the druid's mouth upturned slightly, though it would be very generous to say he was smiling. "No, little one, I'm afraid not." He held it higher up. "These are shoots of morrowgrain."

As he expected, there was no recognition in the eyes or the mutterings of the children. He started passing them one shoot each to examine. "It is a rare and unusual plant, and it can only be grown in one place in the world: the extremely dangerous Un'goro crater."

This made the children gasp slightly and mutter louder, as several of them had indeed heard of Un'goro from the storytelling adventurers wandering through their town or from their mothers' bedtime stories.

"Of course, children…" the druid continued. "We do keep and grow much of it here in Moonglade now. It can be quite useful." He decided to quench their thirst for excitement a little. "For example, we can use it to grow guard plants to ensnare our enemies in battle."

There was an excited 'oooh' from the little humans, and each of them looked at the morrowgrain shoot with a little more fascination.

"Now," the teacher continued. "Each of you has a shoot, I would like you open it, and place the grains carefully in a new pot of soil. Each of you will care for this new morrowgrain plant as it grows. Before long, you will all have more samples to study…"

The enthusiasm on the childrens' faces quickly slipped off as they realized what he had just told them.

"But sir…" one of the little ones said slowly. "We're here to learn how to be druids, aren't we?"

The teacher sighed inwardly. He knew this had to come up sooner or later.

"All druids have to start somewhere, little one." He said in his most patient and wise tone. "And this is usually where they start. Come now, you didn't actually expect to be growing treant guardians by the next moonrise, did you?"

He hated mocking anyone, especially children, but he knew it was also the best way to forestall any other objections from the others, who scoffed and giggled at their red-faced classmate.

Without another word, the teacher gestured at the pots, trowels, and large mounds of freshly-turned earth waiting to one side, and, some with enthusiastic bounds, and others with weary groans, the children clambered off their benches and went to pick them up.

"Remember, children," the druid said as they started filling pots. "Do not place the shoot too deeply in the soil after you fill your pots. If the grain is too deep within the earth, it will not reach the air in time and it will choke and die. If you cannot keep a simple plant alive, you certainly can never become a druid…"

With much disgruntled muttering, the children reluctantly followed the night elf's instructions, pouring soil and planting shoots into their pots. Within five minutes, it was done.

"Excellent." The druid said quietly, peering into several of the pots. "Now children, before we adjourn this morning, I will give you one final instruction: keep thinking about this new plant _all day_. Try to hold the thought as tightly as you can. It will be difficult the first time, children, but it will get easier as we continue."

There was a ripple of groans. The druid did not blame them. Being young and mortal, this would be more difficult for a human child than it would for a night elf.

"I know, children, it will be hard…" he said reassuringly. "But if you can do this, you will have learned half of a basic druid's ability. The other half, how to use this thought to change the plant, will be what we will study over the coming year. This plant will be your test subject for this ability throughout the whole time we learn it, so it is best if you attune yourself to it thoroughly."

There was still grumbling, but the children accepted his words without any objection.

_Another push_. The druid cleared his throat to stop the grumbling. "If you can learn to concentrate in this way, children…that will also be of use in learning to attune yourself to the Emerald Dream. It will take many years, but once you get there, it will be well worth it."

Another ghost of a smile crossed the teacher's face as he said "Very well, children. You are dismissed."

A young night elf priestess approached the children, limping slightly, and called to them in a sweet, warming voice to come with her back home. _A mother's voice_, the druid thought, reflecting with a pang of pity that this particular priestess would never become a mother because of an injury she sustained at Mount Hyjal years ago.

_Let them be her children then. At least for a while,_ he thought, watching her lead them away.

There was a hearty chuckle from his left as the hunter rose from the bench where he had been watching. "I wonder why you bother, Treike." He said with a shrug. "You know and I know that humans could never become druids…"

The druid named Treike gazed at his friend without expression. "Many causes may appear futile, Ashind. Yet many of them may produce a surprising result, or even a completely new discovery. You should know this, my friend."

Ashind shook his head. "Perhaps. But our time could still be better spent." He snorted slightly. "Come, my friend, I think some of the new dwarven stout they delivered last week might ease our minds over this."

Nodding agreement, Treike picked up his staff from where he leaned it against the wall and followed his friend back to Nighthaven.

* * *

"So that's how it was…" Ashind said as he lazily leaned back in his seat and scratched his pet nightsaber, Prowl, behind the ears. "Do you remember that orc we saw floating around drunk in the…"

"Ashind…" Treike said, waving his hand as he looked up from his drink. "You know how I feel about that. You've been spending too much time with the humans…"

Indeed, time and time again, he had made it clear to his over-talkative friend that he didn't enjoy reliving those times. As far as Treike was concerned, his time on the battlefield with the Alliance and Horde was over. But Ashind, very chatty by night elf standards, loved to relive the times when the two of them had put vast numbers of orcs and trolls to flight, something which Treike was not remotely interested in discussing considering what it all led up to.

"Master Kaltreike, sir…"

Treike looked up and noticed a young druidess-in-training walking towards him. She was trembling slightly, as though she dearly wished she were somewhere and someone else.

"What is it, little sister?" he asked formally while Ashind covered his mouth and gave a small snort of laughter at the girl's discomfort. The young, obviously untrained, elf girl was one of the new breed of female druids, the ones who could not hibernate within the Emerald Dream and thus instead learned the ways of nature through the generosity of the ancients. It made sense that such a young one, with so little knowledge in the face of a full-grown druid, would balk at being the bearer of bad news.

"I have been asked to deliver a message to you…" she said slowly, and obviously with great reluctance. "Lord Dendrite Starblaze requires your presence. He says that he wishes to discuss some grave news with you."

Treike nodded politely. "Thank you, little one. I will go to him soon. Blessings of Cenarius upon you."

The young night elf turned red, bowed hurriedly and scuttled off to Ashind's chuckles.

"Regrets, Treike?" he asked his friend slyly.

The druid suddenly shot the hunter a look of pure venom. Ashind started momentarily, and quickly composing himself, looked down and rubbed his temples.

"I'm so sorry, my friend. Sometimes I forget…" He shook his head in a gesture of genuine regret. "It must be the stout that's making me a fool. I apologize…"

Treike glared in answer before rising. "Are you coming or staying, Ashind?"

The hunter yawned. "I will retire. It will be midday soon. I hope Starblaze doesn't keep you up too long, my friend."

* * *

Treike let only one word slip out.

"What?"

Dendrite Starblaze looked at him, obviously unhappy at having to be the bearer of this kind of news. "I'm sorry, Kaltreike. I really am. But I cannot disobey the Arch Druid. Even one such as Staghelm…"

Treike sat heavily on the bench next to Dendrite's table. He couldn't believe his ears. "May I see the message please, Dendrite?"

Grimacing, the older druid reached for his table and rolled up a half-open parchment before offering it to Treike. The druid licked his fingers and unrolled the crisp document. He stared at the spidery script, written in Darnassian and obviously in a great hurry. Treike could not help but scowl as he read.

_Revered Cenarion Druid Starblaze,_

_Blessings of the Cenarion Enclave upon you. I, Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm, write to you now in this hour, and I must be brief, as there are a great number of other matters which require my attention._

_It has come to my attention recently that the Cenarion researcher and former so-called war druid to our friends in the Alliance, Kaltreike Shadowfury, is currently residing in Nighthaven. If so, then I need hardly remind you that his activities in the past, not to mention the bloodline he carries in his veins, is a cause of great concern to us, your concerned brothers._

_I urge you to rethink your plans to keep Kaltreike Shadowfury in Nighthaven. I know already that he is attempting a rather scandalous and hopelessly inane pursuit in Moonglade by attempting to instruct human visitors in our druidic powers. Outrageous as well as imbecilic._

_In light of this, and other recent reports of his past activities which have come to me, as Arch Druid of the Cenarion Circle, I issue a command to both you and Kaltreike that he return to Darnassus immediately where the full extent of his crimes can be rectified and adequate disciplinary action may be taken. I will expect his arrival within the week._

_-Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm_

"He gets more and more carried away as he goes along, doesn't he?" Treike murmured, scanning the document again. He did not show it, but he was tempted to rip the message up and curse Staghlem with every insult he knew right there and then. "_Must be brief_, eh?" He added with only a touch of scorn.

Everyone in Moonglade knew that their beloved new Arch Druid was long overdue for proper instruction in management of his anger, but to issue such bold accusations and commands was treading too heavily even for him.

Starblaze sighed again. "It is up to you, Treike. You may obey him, or you may leave. Now that he knows you are here, I'm afraid I cannot any longer maintain the illusion of ignorance. If you choose to leave, I can send him a reply stating you left before the message arrived…"

No. The druid knew this had been coming for a while. Leaving Moonglade now would only allow Staghelm to declare him an outlaw and have the Cenarion Circle on the lookout.

He stood. "Ashind wanted to visit his family soon anyway. I doubt anyone will miss him for a few nights in Darnassus, and another druid can teach the human children…"

Starblaze turned back, obviously startled. "You're going? Kaltreike, my friend…I need hardly inform you how dangerous this will be…"

Treike shook his head. "I could put off this danger for another century if I had to, revered Starblaze. But to what end?"

Dendrite Starblaze did not like what his return to Darnassus might mean, but the question Treike posed was pertinent. Running from Staghelm and his followers would accomplish nothing except wasting time. Sooner or later, the Arch Druid would find him, and the infuriating thing about it was that Starblaze and the other druids of Moonglade and Felwood would have to help him do it…

"Where are you going?" Starblaze called, as he turned and saw Treike leaving with his staff.

"To the Grove." The other druid replied quietly. "I have to see Keeper Remulos…"

* * *

The healthy, growing grass of the grove crunched only slightly under the hooves of Keeper Remulos, son of Cenarius, as he and Kaltreike strode below the great boughs.

"Our revered Arch Druid…" Remulos said uneasily. "…does not remember the limits of his own power. He has no influence here in Moonglade, and most of our followers hold no great love for him. You need not obey this command of his, young Kaltreike. My word as the son of Cenarius may serve to convince every druid here and abroad that you are no criminal."

"It may certainly, Remulos…" Treike replied just as slowly. He liked the keeper. Everyone did. But he knew now what he had to do. Even if Remulos' words were true, and though he appreciated them, Treike was certain Staghelm would exert not only the druidic arm of night elf society in the attempt to capture him. "…But defiance may lead to escalation in disagreement between the druids, and I believe the Cenarion Circle has enough enemies already without squabbling amongst ourselves."

"Treike…" Remulos began, using the nickname now that they were out of earshot of the silent guards, as if in an attempt to address him as a friend. "This sounds like an obvious attempt to indict you into the unfortunate…" He stopped momentarily at the druid's stare. "Very well…_horrible_ events of three years ago in Outland. I believe it is a mistake to go to Darnassus and place yourself in Staghelm's power. Other druids have visited him on the claim of receiving fair charges for indiscretions before, and…"

He paused, looking upwards unhappily at the falling leaves and glint of emerging dawn rays from the canopy. The keeper then shook himself and pawed at the earth with two hooves. "We never heard from them again. It gives me no pleasure to say this, Treike, but I believe he is not merely reassigning them…"

Treike nodded. "I know that well, keeper." He had heard the rumors himself. A number of druids had certainly disappeared from Moonglade after answering summons from the Cenarion Enclave in Darnassus. Enquiries after them had been shunned, and even attempts to dispatch messengers to the Enclave had turned up no substantial replies. "But what the Arch Druid accuses me of is something that wounds me deeply, and I feel I may have a personal need to answer his charges, with the truth."

He could feel the keeper's questioning gaze as he looked down at the soil. But Remulos did not enquire as to the cause of Treike's urge. After a few moments, he added. "Perhaps I may also discover what became of our brothers who went to see him also…"

This seemed to make Remulos halt in formulating his next objection. Treike knew the disappearances disturbed him. He was silent for several moments.

"I assume you have a plan? Of sorts…?" he tilted his enormous head.

Treike shook his head. "Not quite. But I do know that Tyrande Whisperwind trusts me. And her protection, I hope, will place me beyond Staghelm's reach until these…charges…are disproved. I must go back to Darnassus, Remulos. For my own sake. Not just that of our revered Arch Druid…"

The keeper inclined his head, acknowledging surrender in the discussion. As with most great beings, his gestures of such were very small.

"Very well then. Good luck and godspeed, Kaltreike Shadowfury. May Cenarius be with you…and keep you safe…"

Treike inclined his head, and then suddenly looked up, an idea striking him…

"Revered Keeper…I just may have a plan after all. Tell me, how long has it been since Lady Tyrande has heard from you?"

Remulos was one of the few beings who knew the ironic note in his voice was the closest he could manage to a smile. And what it meant…

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Author: Please leave a review. All comments, including criticism, are welcome. On a side note, I may be asking one or two of my favorite WoW ficcers if I can feature cameos of their fic characters in future, so keep an eye out. Love you all, readers!


	2. Darnassus

Disclaimer: I don't own WoW, or any of its characters. They are the legal property of Blizzard Entertainment. Did you even read this far? I'm impressed.

Author: Yep, I wrote the first couple of chapters at once. Kaltreike is the name of my char on EU Darkspear, and I'll be featuring a couple of others from my (former) guild as well as my alts. Still got plenty of original characters in this fic though, and I hope you're not bored already. On with the fic!

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Fleet of Foot

Part One

* * *

Chapter 2: Darnassus

The reception in Darnassus after stepping off the boat had, at least at first, been warmer than Treike had expected. The tattooed, slender priestess he remembered to be Elpaev Moongaze was awaiting him, Ashind and Prowl at Ruth'theran village with a wide smile on her face.

"Welcome home, Kaltreike Shadowfury …" she said throatily, gesturing to her escort of two sentinels. "Please accompany us. Lady Tyrande Whisperwind received your message. She awaits us in the Temple of the Moon as we speak."

Treike allowed an expression of approval to cross his gaunt face. He had known this priestess for some time, and he was certain she could be trusted. Elpaev was a distant relative of the Shadowfury family, a great aunt he believed…or something along that line. His family had been in disgrace for so long, and been something he cared so little to think of…that he could hardly remember now…

He had hoped to avoid the only other member of his family around, whom he knew regularly haunted this area, and certainly enough, Letta was nowhere in sight. Probably off stargazing someplace else with her lover. It was better that Treike did not see her. And he imagined she wouldn't appreciate seeing him…

Treike was not the most handsome of night elves. He had a long, pointed face with skin stretched tightly over the raw edges of his skull, twisting his face into an almost continual scowl. The golden eyes were set deeply into bony sockets and he boasted neither the venerable beard nor the prized antlers that marked so many of the great druids of night elf history. Similarly, his deep azure hair was only tied into a simple tail, with no long mane. The only mark of prestige he bore was the single small tattoo on his inner forearm, the Scar of the Moonkin, awarded to druids of the Cenarion Circle who drew upon the power of the ancient race in times of battle. Because of this, it was no-one's surprise that he had become a "war druid" as they were so crudely called by the Alliance.

But it was not his physical appearance, nor his druidic talents that repulsed many other night elves. It was his name.

Shadowfury.

The name that had belonged to a demon hunter pariah driven only by vengeance. The name given to a hero who had abandoned his own people just when they need him the most. The name of a witless weaver girl who simply wiled her days away with the strings or cooing at passing Alliance warriors.

And now it seemed, the name of an ugly, withdrawn druid out of favor with the Cenarion Circle.

The portal to the city of Darnassus was the same as he remembered it. A great tree concealing the glow of the enchanted circle. The transport was also as instantaneous as he remembered, and before he could even clear his lungs to retake a breath, Darnassus stood before him.

The gentle lap of the waters mingled with the quiet rustling of the foliage overhead and the hum of the Darnassian wisps to beat a symphony of peace on Treike's eardrums, but he knew the lack of commotion to disturb this peace would only last as far as the short walk up to the city proper.

As Treike, Ashind, Elpaev, and her entourage ascended the stone walkway, Treike could catch no flicker of emotion in the still faces of the Darnassian Sentinels guarding the portal. Were they pleased to see him? Upset? Angry? Did they even remember him at all? The druid could not tell.

Elpaev turned slightly in her stride and smiled over her shoulder at him, with just a trace of strain, as if to say 'I'm sorry for what you'll have to endure here.'

Treike looked away from her and stared at Ashind, who was starting to smile. A broad smile that creased the pinkish skin of his handsome face. Made even more infuriatingly pleasant by the breeze ruffling his straight mane of white hair.

Though he would never admit it, Treike was envious of his hunter friend's happiness at this moment.

Ashind had a mate and a young daughter in Darnassus, whom he had not seen for close to a year now, and Treike knew the cause of his smile had to be the prospect of having the chance to see them, despite the main reason for their visit to Darnassus…

_Visit…_

Treike hung his head for a moment as he remembered that this was a 'visit' that he likely wasn't going to be walking away from as a free man.

Darnassus proper loomed before them. It was obvious that the city was awake and lively despite it only being the early hours of the evening. The trees, hollowed and grown by the druids' talents, stood tall and proud, and the deep Darnassian lake carried the sweet scent of roses and fresh herbal blooms to Treike's nose. The Sentinels were waiting for them in front of the enormous Ancient One set before the city, shaped and grown to resemble the great faces of the bear and stag.

The Sentinels, set in their glimmering armor and blades, appeared none too pleased at the entourage coming to meet them.

"Elpaev Moongaze…" their leader, a huntress, said, stepping forward and saluting. She raised her voice in an effort to speak above the growing hubbub of the city. "We are here to escort your charge, Kaltreike Shadowfury, to the Temple of the Moon to meet the beloved High Priestess of the Moon. You and the hunter are quite welcome to join us, however and…"

"Huntress Ravenoak!" Another deep voice called, interrupting the sentinel leader.

Everyone turned and saw a druid walking towards them with a small group of Cenarion followers. Treike tensed as he recognized the one who had called.

Mathrengyl Bearwalker. Staghelm's lap dog. This couldn't be good.

The tall, heavily armored druid was turning the brook before the Ancient One to meet them. "Revered Huntress…" he said in his deep voice. "We appreciate your welcoming our brother in the Cenarion Circle to Darnassus, but this escort is not necessary. We druids are perfectly capable of escorting our brother to adequate facilities to await his trial."

Only the lack of an ominous undertone in his voice stopped it from sounding like Mathrengyl was implying he wanted to clap Treike in irons. Both Elpaev and the huntress seemed to tense slightly.

Ashind's face had twisted into a scowl and Treike noticed that his hand was twitching to reach for his bow. Prowl was starting to growl. He lay a restraining hand on Ashind's arm, earning a surprised glance from his friend.

"Revered druid…" Ravenoak said, strain obvious in her voice. "My sisters and I were ordered to bring this druid and his companions specifically to see High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind. These were direct orders and we cannot disobey…not even to hand Kaltrieke to his brothers in the Enclave."

"Huntress. Please. This comes directly from Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm himself. And as Kaltreike Shadowfury is a member of our Circle…"

Treike decided to speak up before things went awry. He knew about the feuds between the sentinels and druids very well. He compressed ultimate patience and rationality into his voice before speaking.

"Mathrengyl…" he began, addressing the other druid informally and immediately catching everyone's attention with his surprising 'friendliness'. "There is no need for you to worry. I fully intend to visit the Cenarion Enclave shortly myself and pay a visit to the Revered Arch Druid. There need be no debates."

Mathrengyl Bearwalker narrowed his eyes, looking taken aback for only a second before answering. "_Kaltreike_…" he began (Ashind's mouth twitched – anyone who did address his friend informally did so with his nickname). "I really must urge you to come with me. The Arch Druid wishes to divulge some information concerning your personal safety before you venture further into Darnassus. And it might be unwise for you to continue to the Temple of the Moon at the present time until you have heard his warnings."

"I am sure High Priestess Whisperwind can alert me, my brother, if there is anything wrong…" Treike said, trying to sound firmer this time. "And I have already said I plan to visit the Enclave shortly. But it is a formality that I visit our ruler first with the gifts from Moonglade I bear…"

Mathrengyl Bearwalker immediately twitched, and Treike smiled inwardly as he knew he had him trapped. "Surely you do not insist I delay in presenting myself to her Honored High Priestess with the gifts of Keeper Remulos of Moonglade, son of Cenarius and grandson of our holy goddess Elune herself?"

Bearwalker immediately stiffened. "Of…of course not. I would never dream of presuming to keep the High Priestess' gifts from her." He relaxed somewhat, though Treike could see he was troubled, as could Ashind, who was smiling broadly. "Very well. I will inform our Arch Druid of the necessity of your trip to Lady Tyrande, but I really must urge you do not delay in reporting to the Cenarion Enclave afterwards…"

Treike inclined his head. "Please do inform Arch Druid Staghelm that I appreciate his offer however, and when the time comes, I hope I may have the opportunity to thank him properly…"

Ashind gave a quiet snort so low that Bearwalker appeared to miss it. The other druid turned and walked away, his escort following him. Treike noticed though that Mathrengyl did not appear to be in the least bit upset. In fact, his walk had a simple shuffle of relief to it.

Treike resolved to be on his guard.

* * *

The walk to the Temple of the Moon, short and uncomplicated though it was, turned out to be quite informative for the druid.

The last time he had been in Darnassus was shortly after Teldrassil had been completed and he and the other war druids had been enlisted for service in the Alliance. He could see now that it was much different from those few years ago. He could see new ancients standing everywhere, holding shops, inns, and numerous other establishments dedicated to crafts and services as provided to the night elves by the Alliance. Apparently, despite the lack of architectural diversity, _cultural_ diversity was definitely improving. Humans, gnomes, and even several dwarves and draenei, were wandering through the streets talking with smiling night elf friends, obviously now living in Darnassus. Ashind snickered as the pair of them passed a young dwarf whispering in a corner to a night elf girl, who was blushing and giggling.

Children, which had formerly been a rare sight in night elf society, were running everywhere, laughing and chattering or playing. Treike liked children; though the night elves had sacrificed their immortality, the resulting increase in night elf fertility seemed a reasonable exchange now.

But the most significant change of all was in the earth. Formerly, the night elves cared for nature so deeply they made to live without disturbing it, but now that they merely cooperated with nature instead of actively aiding it, there were sunken flagstones and cultivated water canals mixed amongst the ancients, along with fruit and vegetable gardens.

In short, the once-immortal night elves were now taking their place amongst the fleeting lifetimes of the mortal races.

Treike noticed Ashind seemed to be twitching, and he could tell his hunter friend wished to run off and see his family. Prowl had already gone to jump and lick at a laughing little girl who was petting the saber.

"Go and see them, Ashind." Treike said quietly. "I will come soon."

Ashind looked at him and shook his head, though the druid could see he was still sorely tempted. "No. A little longer won't hurt. I'll go see them as soon as I know Tyrande won't hand you over to Staghelm." He spoke the last sentence in hushed tones so as not to alert the Sentinels and Ravenoak. Whether they did in fact hear him or not, Treike could not tell.

Ashind was a good friend. Almost a brother. Treike had known him since they had both been children. All those centuries ago when they had been young, an accidental fire had destroyed Ashind's home estate and killed his family, and Treike's father, their closest neighbor due to the remoteness of Ashind's home, had arrived only in time to save the hunter alone.

Bringing the sobbing night elf boy back to his home, Treike had taken him from his father and watched over him until the shock and grief of Ashind's experience had passed. He had then remained in Treike's home as his adopted younger brother, and Treike was the one of the few who knew that Ashind's persistent banter and almost childish sense of humor was only his way of stopping himself from remembering the horrible loss he had suffered.

Since he had met Silvanna though, he had drawn apart from Treike. Though only a couple of years Ashind's senior, Treike had cautioned him (somewhat overzealously in retrospect) of the dangers of involving himself with a mate too soon. Ashind had agreed at first and he and Silvanna had kept their relationship at arms' length until…

Treike shook his head. He had to admit when he remembered what had happened barely three years ago, he also wished he had a mate's loving arms to fall into. But that hadn't happened, and likely wouldn't ever happen. Ashind though, had left with Silvanna immediately afterwards, and considering what he had suffered, who was Treike to keep him from every ounce of happiness in existence?

They were just reaching the steps leading to the Temple of the Moon. Treike remembered the sheer tranquility of its interior, and his memory did not betray him as they passed by the guards into the cool, shaded interior. The statue of Elune glistened in the deep shadow before them. A light in the darkness, as was Elune herself. The cool splashing of water in the moonwell before them made Treike relax instantly.

Ravenoak dismounted before the archway and, as tradition dictated, removed her blade and left it by the entrance to the sacred temple. Nodding at Ashind to do likewise, Treike removed his staff also and handed it to a smiling young priestess. Ashind was less happy at the prospect of giving up his bow and his knife, but he complied. At least Prowl was permitted to accompany him.

A young priest, surprisingly not a priestess (Treike once again reflected on the changes in night elf society), approached them and asked them to follow him. Lady Tyrande Whisperwind had risen and was awaiting them. Both Ravenoak and Elpaev were smiling broadly at the prospect of meeting the High Priestess of the Moon, but Treike was less optimistic. He checked that he still had Remulos' gifts before he fell into step.

After a short walk up the steps to the higher level of the temple, Treike began to feel his pulse quicken as they approached the Darnassian Throne.

She sat there still. Tyrande Whisperwind. Still the unwavering beam of moonlight that many night elves muttered was the lifeglow of Elune herself. Still with the hard, unflinching gaze of one who was born to rule. Still with the silvery-white gleam billowing all around her, settling into a calm aura of cool serenity and hard steel.

Treike immediately bowed low after discreetly nudging Ashind, who copied him. Prowl gave a low purr of reverence before inclining his head. The sentinels and Elpaev of course, merely saluted and stood aside. They were Tyrande's soldiers; not her citizens.

Tyrande rose, with only the faintest sound accompanying her movement. "Rise." She said throatily, and the druid and the hunter straightened. Tyrande's voice was low and completely neutral, yet Treike could have sworn it had carried all the way to the lower levels of the temple.

Treike knew the High Priestess of Elune. He knew her better than most other night elf citizens at least. That his ambiguous acquaintance with Tyrande Whisperwind had not begun under the best of circumstances was indeed a barrier, but Treike liked to believe that the one-time priestess-in-training that became the ruler before him was the same one who proclaimed him innocent of murder centuries ago.

And now, hopefully, would perform a similar act once again.

Tyrande cleared her throat slightly and spoke again, her tone fading into the monotone of a formal, practiced speech, and Treike fixed his gaze firmly on her again.

"Welcome back to Darnassus, Kaltreike Shadowfury…" she began. "And greetings to you, Ashind Amberstar. It is most splendid to welcome back two heroes in this dark age. Truly, the blessings of Elune are upon us."

She paused, and Treike could feel Ashind twitch uncomfortably to his right. He could probably tell, as Treike could, that her flattery was likely a mere buffer for the bad news that came next.

"However…" Tyrande continued, confirming their fears. "I fear that this return has taken place under most suspicious circumstances. I understand that you, Kaltreike, have been summoned by Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm and the Cenarion Enclave in Darnassus to stand trial on charge of high treason against Darnassus and the Alliance. You understand, my children, that this makes your presence here a concern for me."

Treike nodded slowly, not sure if this confirmation was what Tyrande actually wanted or not. He knew once Tyrande was done with this ceremony, she would dispense with the formalities and open an ear to his explanations. For now, he would let this play out to its end.

"My lady…" he began, speaking slowly and with clarity to suppress any emotion. "I come bearing the blessings of the druids of Moonglade and the gifts of Keeper Remulos, son of Cenarius."

Tyrande smiled slightly, a gesture which did not quite reach her eyes. "It is always a pleasure to receive the blessings of the Goddess' grandson. Proceed, Kaltreike Shadowfury."

Nodding, Treike reached into the pouch that hung from his belt, and withdrew two shining brown acorns the size of plums. Holding one aloft for all to see, Treike spoke a word of command, and the acorn split its outer skin with a loud _crack_ that reverberated throughout the chamber.

With a sharp cry, Treike tossed the acorn to the floor, where it landed in the fresh soil beside the High Priestess' throne. Most of the guards seemed to have guessed what was coming and stepped back, but Tyrande did not move. With a mighty groan, the soil split and a fresh young sapling sprung from the earth, twisted and sprouting until it rose over the throne and began to shine with a silvery inner light.

Without waiting for the first to finish, Treike held aloft and cracked the second before tossing it to the throne's other foot.

An identical sapling, shimmering with an inner golden light, twisted up before the mesmerized eyes of the priestesses to turn and intertwine with the still-growing beeches of the first…

Until finally, Tyrande Whisperwind and her throne stood beneath a shining arch of two young trees, each glowing with the inner light to symbolize the close relationship between the Daughters of Elune and the Disciples of Cenarius.

Ashind smiled, looking sideways at his friend, who had lowered his arms and was as impassive as ever. Ravenoak, Elpaev, and the guards were all silent as courtesy demanded, but he could see the wonder in their eyes.

Tyrande herself was now smiling broadly, obviously pleased. "Long it has been since the Cenarion Circle has shown me such courtesy…" she said slowly, heavily, and Treike did not blame her. His brother druids in Darnassus certainly wouldn't have been as respectful in their visits…thanks to Staghelm.

"My deepest apologies…" he said slowly, with a stiff bow.

Tyrande waved her hand dismissively. "Let us waste no more time with formalities. You had a clever idea for managing to slip through Staghelm's fingers, Kaltreike Shadowfury, but I am afraid there is very real danger for you here in Darnassus all the same."

Treike straightened and nodded slowly, his face slowly tightening into a frown. "I doubt Staghelm summoned me for the sake of fair judgment, Lady. You are aware that my case is not the first?"

Tyrande frowned. "Yes. I am aware many druids, particularly the followers of my heart, Malfurion, have disappeared recently. Fear not, Kaltreike, for the moment you are safe in my power."

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, Bearwalker took my word, Lady Tyrande, to visit the Enclave. If I had not, the druids would undoubtedly have tried to take me by force. I didn't want your fine Sentinels injured on my account, Lady."

Ravenoak stiffened beside him, but said nothing.

Treike then narrowed his gaze and said politely to Tyrande, "If it's not too much, I would like to ask the hospitality of your dungeons until my trial," Ashind exhaled sharply and looked sideways at him. "Let Staghelm think you chained me up the second I stepped through your gates, Lady. Since I am technically a criminal of the Alliance, you have a right the Arch Druid cannot dispute."

"Such would have been my suggestion as well," Tyrande said gravely. "I have no doubt that something would happen to you before trial otherwise."

She cleared her throat. "You answered a summons from Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm, Treike, and there is nothing I can do about whatever you do as a druid. However, the fact that he also charges you with crimes against the Alliance…that is something I can help you with, as this nation's ruler." Tyrande sat back down heavily. "I will have your criminal hearing scheduled to be held in the city below the Great Ancients. I managed to have the matter of criminal druids taken out of the Cenarion Enclave already by the same reason you gave."

Her voice hardened. "However, I cannot keep the druids from taking the majority of the judiciary, Kaltreike Shadowfury. And I am fairly certain those assigned will all be Staghelm's supporters. I will request the assistance of the visiting Stormwind judge Rubella Irwen to govern the High Court. I am aware Stormwind has a clearer idea of the events you have been charged with." She paused to get her breath back, then continued.

"Judge Rubella Irwen is supposedly one of the most famous and gifted of Stormwind's justice administration. She may be human, but she has stepped in to cover an Alliance trial in Darnassus once before…and I can honestly say she performs well…"

Tyrande's eyes then hardened. "I am fairly certain that the prosecution in the trial will not be Staghelm himself…but most certainly one of his supporters, Kaltreike. I had to concede that given that you are in fact of the Cenarion Circle and I cannot keep them from justice against their own…"

"Your defense, however, you must choose for yourself. I cannot appoint a defense counsel - I must not publicly support you."

Elpaev Moongaze stepped forward. "I would happily serve as Lord Shadowfury's defense, Honored High Priestess."

Treike shook his head. "Thank you, sister. But I already have a candidate in mind for my defense: Lady Silvanna Evernight." He glanced sideways at Ashind, who looked startled, and then smiled slyly.

* * *

Most unfortunately, the Darnassian Warden didn't seem to quite understand what Lady Tyrande had meant by 'honored prisoner'…

"Move, you dog!" Stonewill snarled, shoving the chained Treike down the steps into the Iron Barrow.

Shortly after the meeting, Tyrande had him escorted to the cells. Ashind had protested, but Treike had stared him into silence and told him to go find his family. Which he eventually did.

Tyrande had assured them both that she would do everything in her power to have Treike removed from the cells as soon as possible. At Treike's request, she had also moved ahead the scheduled trial to three nights after his arrival. Tyrande had, for the first time, appeared slightly puzzled at Treike's apparent hurry to quite possibly face execution, but Ashind had smiled and said three nights was all they needed.

Treike had observed an armed contingent of druids making their way to the Temple of the Moon shortly after he had been taken out in chains by the sentinels. They had not noticed him, but he imagined it wouldn't be too long before Staghelm figured out what had happened.

Which was why he permitted this obnoxious Warden to keep handling him like a rag doll.

The aptly-named Lokhorne Stonewill was, like most Wardens, a mountain of a woman with a fiery temper and a none-too-feminine approach to her charges. Her guards had muttered menacingly at the entrance that not many prisoners survived her displeasure for long.

Treike shook his head. The kinds of sentinels who got assigned to assist Wardens were more often than not the ones that got swept under the canopy before they stained the Sentinels' reputation. He had already been jabbed in the stomach by the butt of one's halberd when he apparently took too long to haul himself to his feet.

Stonewill surged past him and, with a jangle of iron keys and the shriek of a protesting lock, opened the nearest cell. "Get in there!" she growled.

Scowling inside despite the lack of visible expression on his face, Treike docilely stepped past her and settled down on the crude, chain-supported wooden bench in the cell, his golden eyes glimmering only so slightly.

Stonewill stepped inside, holding up another smaller key. "Hands! Now!" she commanded. "And do not even think of trying anything stupid, swine! I have a crossbow pointed at you."

The druid raised his hands, and, seizing his wrist, the warden unlocked the manacles and uncoiled the chains around his arms. "Consider yourself lucky you can have some time to make your peace with Elune here, pig! If you're lucky, they'll send you to the gallows! If you're unlucky, well…"

A gloating smile spread across her ugly face. "I imagine you may still serve your people in the Pits…if you last long there, that is…"

The Pits…the new Alliance hard labor prison in Silithus, dedicated to the extraction of silithyst by excavation. A slow and difficult death.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, revered Warden…" Treike said slowly. "But I believe the death penalty may be the worst possible fate for me at the moment."

Stonewill gave him a twisted grin. "I have heard that from other prisoners, worm! And they wonder how on earth they all ended up dying under the desert sun, so far from the light of Elune…" Chuckling harshly, the warden turned on her heel and left. The cell bars were slammed shut behind her.

Treike leaned back. _Three nights of this._

* * *

But it seemed the druid was in for a pleasant surprise.

Awoken by a loud banging noise, Treike stretched up, hearing the shouting of two female voices and the quick approaching footsteps. One voice was harsh and vocal with rage, and the other was clipped and razor-sharp.

Treike allowed himself a faint smile. He'd recognize the second voice anywhere. His ears still ached in reminiscence.

Lokhorne Stonewill, her cracked face twisted into an enraged expression, bustled down the prison corridor following a slender, silver-haired night elf woman in a thick, quilted dress and a dozen silver bangles around her wrists.

"What do you think you are doing, Warden?" Silvanna snapped in a hard voice. "Kaltreike Shadowfury has not been convicted of any crime. There is no reason for him to be in a cell!"

Stonewill growled, obviously barely able to keep herself under control in the face of this presumably-ordinary citizen. "He was imprisoned under a direct edict from the High Priestess, woman!"

"Is that so?" Silvanna asked, stopping suddenly and turning to face the taller night elf. "And what were the grounds of this command?"

"He is a criminal of the Alliance!"

"And how has this been proven? The Wisdom of the Ancients states clearly that no night elf citizen is to be persecuted or punished until his or her status as a criminal is incontrovertibly proven under scrutiny! I ask you again, Lokhorne, what crime has he committed?"

Stonewill started to answer, and then suddenly stopped, her mouth hanging half-open.

Silvanna smirked slightly. "You don't know, do you?" She then turned and continued to stride down to Treike's cell. "You presume to imprison him under an order with no proven conviction by the Wisdom of the Ancients? Even our revered Lady Tyrande cannot do that and you can repeat that to her if you wish, Lokhorne."

Stonewill seemed to recover from her lapse and stormed after her. "The Wisdom aside, he is a prisoner _now_, woman! And no law allows the removal of prisoners from the barrow without authorization! You will leave now!"

"His imprisonment is invalidated, Lokhorne." Silvanna replied without breaking stride. "And since he is not yet a criminal, to hold him as a prisoner is an offense to one of the oldest laws of our society and will warrant a charge of neglect of duty on your part…"

She had not spoken that last part loudly, but Treike noticed the Warden seem to stumble and pause.

Silvanna abruptly turned on her heel. "You should have known that, Lokhorne Stonewill. The Seventh Whisper of The Word of Elune expressly prohibits a Warden from accepting prisoners whose villainy has not been proven, and the punishment for abusing duty in such a way has been a dismissal and immediate exile…"

She smiled slightly, and it looked only a little vicious. She spoke quick, hard, and precisely in an unbreakable tone, just as he remembered. "Although with the amendments to our laws following the Battle of Hyjal, you could face charges on complaints and misconduct claims from your own former prisoners instead. Your neglect of duty charge would quite possibly suspend the invalidity of a criminal claim from your other…guests."

At that, Lokhorne seemed to stop entirely and looked at Silvanna unsurely. Treike was fairly certain she had indeed abused a fair few of her prisoners over the years, and if people suddenly started listening to them…

Treike, his amusement rising by the moment, saw Lokhorne straighten slowly. He had no doubt that she, like most Wardens, couldn't care less what the people thought of her, but since she was the Warden of the Iron Barrow, she had to observe the law and abide by Darnassus' civilized code of conduct.

Credit where credit was due, the Warden came up with a stiff response quickly, folding her steel-clad arms. "It is still a direct order from Lady Tyrande Whisperwind, and neglect of duty can hardly be substantiated against me for following orders from our ruler, Lady Evernight!"

Silvanna unfolded her arm, and with a whisper of air and a gleam of white light, a small, insubstantial white owl appeared on her wrist. "Dear one," Silvanna cooed at it quietly. "Please visit Tyrande Whisperwind and remind her of the Seventh Whisper. Do you understand?"

The moonlit owl hooted quietly, spread its wings, and vanished into thin air. Treike felt his lips twitch slightly. He _almost_ smiled.

"And now, revered Warden Lokhorne Stonewill…" Silvanna continued to the immobile Warden struck dumb by her sheer impertinence. "Please give me the key." She held out her hand.

The Warden looked so furious Treike wondered faintly how she managed not to explode.

"I cannot…" she began in a tight voice, but the other woman cut her off.

"Warden, this druid's imprisonment is invalidated under the Seventh Whisper of the Word of Elune. Any further attempt to keep him imprisoned will warrant abuse of the Warden's Mantle and merit neglect of duty!" Silvanna's words stabbed sharply in quick succession. "You will free this citizen immediately!"

Lokhorne seemed to swell, and then to shrink, and the druid, standing slowly, could see a furious internal debate raging within her before she slowly started to hold out a key. Silvanna reached to take it, but Lokhorne instead pushed her aside and strode up to Treike's cell.

"No law can tell me not to free my own prisoners!" Lokhorne growled in a weak attempt at revenge before unlocking the door.

Silvanna immediately stepped to the doorway. "Come, Kaltreike Shadowfury," she said levelly, though her lips twitched slightly and the sickle tattoos over her eyes seemed to crinkle. "I will bring you to your new accommodations."

He stepped out of the cell, following her, and spared a glance sideways at Lokhorne, who seemed to be barely keeping herself under control.

"Don't worry, you're not the first," he whispered before striding out of the Iron Barrow with Silvanna.

* * *

After she had finished laughing and leaning against a nearby ancient for support, Silvanna grabbed Treike and hugged him, while he swatted her shoulder lightly and tried to unravel her arms.

The late afternoon sun shone down through the canopy outside the Iron Barrow. They stood behind the entrance, hidden from the guards.

"You're playing with fire, Silvanna." Treike said in quiet amusement. "I don't believe I've ever heard you lie through your teeth so convincingly in my life, and that's saying a great deal…"

Silvanna shook her head. "I can't believe what a blockhead Ashind is! Leaving you in that prison with that demon-spawned witch! I came as soon as my dear witless mate managed to remember where you were…"

"Don't blame him," Treike said. "He was just happy to have the chance to see you again. It's understandable it slipped his mind. But now we'll have to avoid being seen! Why in Cenarius' name couldn't you have just left me there?"

"With that Warden? I'm never going to let you suffer, Treike. I'm just sorry I didn't get here sooner." She stepped forward and hugged him again. "Kyra, Ashind, and you are all I have left. It's so good to see you again."

This time Treike returned the gesture. "I missed you too. And how is little Kyra? I'm still wondering when you'll send her to Moonglade, you know."

"Ah, it's only that with all the danger in the world right now, Ashind and I only wished to keep her close to home for a while longer," Silvanna said softly, waving her hand. "But no matter, I'm sure she's waiting for you at home now. Come, Treike. Let's go together."

Treike nodded, and slowly, both night elves closed their eyes and began to flow and twist within their bodies.

Treike felt his shoulders constrict and roll forward until his paws touched the earth, his head turning up to rest on his spine and a soft, rumbling purr rising from his throat.

He turned to see Silvanna flicking her tail before dipping her muzzle to him.

And the two druids melted into the shadows.

* * *

Author: That's it for now. Please leave a review, and I'll be sure to answer you if you have any questions. Next chapter: the trial! Love you all, readers!


	3. The Evernight Ancient

D15Clm3r: 1 d0n'7 pwn WoW, n008!

Author: Hey there, ficcies and trekkies, back again. Unfortunately, halfway through this new chapter, I realized it was going to be a bit too big for just one, and that there's a lot of plot development and I should really give my readers a beak in between. Trial will be the following chapter. This time, we join our heroes now as the trial looms ahead. Kaltreike has been pulled out of prison by Silvanna to her home, where he gets a couple of nice surprises. Then, we run up to what actually happened, and then the fun really begins. On with the fic!

* * *

Fleet of Foot

Part One

Chapter 3: The Evernight Ancient

They were spotted by the Ancients of course, but the old guardians did not think anything of a pair of druids out for an early skulk as the evening dawned.

Treike followed Silvanna past the Craftsmen's Terrace and over towards the brook he remembered from his previous visits. The city was starting to come alive as the night elves rose, and he was anxious to get to Silvanna's mansion as quickly as they could.

The Evernight Ancient stood exactly as he remembered it: large and imposing, set partially into a large rock face which carried a stream into a small, splashing waterfall. The boughs of the ancient twisted over to face the moonrise, and so the upper floors were grown to twist along with it to create a zigzagging stack of upper floors. Flowers littered the windows and gardens, and the purple wooden roof was inlaid with carved designs.

A beautiful home, and one that Treike was certain both Ashind and Silvanna deserved. It was new, and, like all new night elf architecture, was grown with the blessings of the Ancients, unlike most of the ancient Darnassian stone buildings.

It was a little-known fact that Darnassus had existed before the planting of Teldrassil, and before the Sundering even. It was only after the Battle of Hyjal that this ancient crumbling Kaldorei ruin they had called Darnassus had been rebuilt with thousands of Ancients while Teldrassil was grown around it. Treike remembered having told one or two visitors that the Temple of the Moon and the Darnassian Wall were not in fact modern night elf constructions at all.

But Silvanna's home was, and Treike was grateful for that. Stone structures always made him uncomfortable – it wasn't too difficult to imagine them falling down on his head.

Silvanna gave a soft growl and shifted fluidly back into night elf form before the entryway, and Treike followed suit. She knocked impatiently, and the door opened a crack.

A tiny, silver eye peeked out at about knee-level, followed by a loud squeal and the door was wrenched open with a loud bang.

A flash of shimmering lime-green hair and light blue skin darted around Silvanna, and all of a sudden Treike felt something clinging to his thigh with a grip like iron.

"Uncle _Th_reike!" The night elf girl squealed with delight.

He knelt and placed his arms on her shoulders. "Hello, Kyra. You've grown."

"Did you e_th_pect me to _thr_ink?"

"_Kyra_!" Silvanna scolded, turning to her daughter.

Treike felt his mouth twitch only so slightly. "It's alright, Silvanna."

Kyra...she had to be the brightest, wittiest night elf girl he'd ever known, and that wasn't just family pride. He had always liked Silvanna and Ashinds' daughter.

"Let's get in before you wake up the whole city!" Silvanna grumbled at her giggling daughter before ushering them both inside.

The inner hall was as Treike remembered. The Ancient creaked lowly under their feet as they moved to the inner staircase, curving up into the next floor. Large flower s sprouted from the overhead boughs and coiled around the stair-holds as if welcoming Treike and Silvanna back. The purple-stained windows cast a dust-laden light throughout the hall with a dimmer illumination from the glowglobe overhead.

Treike inhaled deeply. This place always felt welcoming. He wished it were his own home.

Ascending the staircase to the lounge, Treike felt his mouth twitch again as he saw Ashind, armorless and weaponless, reclining against a long, cushion bench, scratching Prowl's head in his lap and enjoying his home.

"Ashind!" Silvanna called, startling him out of his lapse. "I brought him back. Next time, I hope you'll get that head of yours out of the Dream long enough to tell me if he's been thrown in the Barrow!"

He flushed slightly, then smiled at his mate. "Oh, you know I was only so happy to see you again, my love. I wasn't thinking."

"How is that different from any other night?" Silvanna grumbled, rolling her eyes but curling her lips into smile. She embraced her mate. "Imbecile."

He slapped her between the shoulder blades. "Whining netherdrake."

Treike cleared his throat after a moment, startling the two. "If you'd prefer I go back downstairs...?" he suggested wryly, earning a grin from Ashind.

* * *

"_Th_ow me how, Uncle _Th_reike!" Kyra said enthusiastically as Treike worked to reshape some of her old wooden toys into new animal carvings that whinnied and meowed.

"All in good time, my little friend. You're still a little too young." Treike said easily as his hands stopped glowing and he put the new little wooden kitten into her hand. It began to purr before curling up into a ball and falling asleep in Kyra's lap.

Kyra gave a lisping sigh and tried to pet the wooden feline. "But I want to _th_tart learning how to be a druid _now_, Uncle."

Treike reached out from his seat and poked an index finger gently onto Kyra's forehead. "Patience, Kyra. Patience is something every druid, young or old, must have. Besides, being a druid is not so easy. It's not just making Ancients move and sleeping in the Emerald Dream, you know."

"_Whyyy_, Uncle?" Kyra moaned. "Why can't it be ea_thh_y?"

"Children. Always asking questions." Ashind chuckled as he strode over to them. He sat and put an arm around his daughter, who reclined against her father and hugged him around the middle. "I'm glad you'll be training her, Treike. Silvanna doesn't have the kind of 'patience' for that."

"I heard that." Silvanna called lightly from the next room in a sweet voice. "I hope you'll remember to put on your helmet before dawn, my love."

Treike's mouth twitched. Kyra giggled loudly and Ashind grimaced. "What more could ask for, Treike, for your defense counsel?" he said in Common, so Kyra wouldn't understand.

"Huh? 'Coun_th_el'?" Kyra sat up, frowning. "I_th_n't a coun_th_el a pla_yth_e where they make the law, father?"

Ashind looked at Treike and raised one eyebrow. How in Elune's name had little Kyra known what a council was? "Ah, no, my dear, not a _council_. Your uncle and I were talking about something else."

Kyra frowned in confusion before shrugging and leaning against her father again. He looked at Treike and the druid nodded. They had to wait until Kyra was gone before they could talk.

It was now almost midnight. Kyra had risen before dusk in anticipation of meeting Treike when she heard where her mother was going, and they knew they would have to wait until she calmed down to discuss adult matters.

But sure enough, she was starting to look sleepy, and within a few moments of stroking her new kitten and listening to their light banter, she was leaning on her father, eyes closed, and breathing deeply.

Silvanna stepped into the room carrying a handful of vellum-bound parchments. Wordlessly, she put them down on the table and slowly lifted Kyra into her arms. "She tires herself out so easily when he's here, Ashind."

The hunter grinned. "It's as I said, my love. If anyone can put someone to sleep, it's Treike." He smirked while both druids rolled their eyes. Silvanna carried Kyra out and returned.

_Children, such a blessing_ Treike thought as he noticed that the easy, happy atmosphere of the room had evaporated upon Kyra being put to bed. Ashind's face was creased in thought now, and when Silvanna walked in, her eyes were flinty.

She lifted the parchments and shuffled through them, scowling. "I had these delivered from the temple, Treike. If it were simply the Cenarion Circle, finding such law would be easier, but since your charges involve the Alliance as well..."

Ashind shrugged. "I don't see how it should be Cenarion Circle business at all, Silvanna."

Treike glanced wryly at his friend. "Unfortunately, it is. Because I am of the Circle, my friend. We insisted on dealing with criminal druids. Of course, though it was during a battle in Outland, it is technically an Alliance matter. Neither side can claim to exclude the other."

"Correct. It is a big mess." Silvanna grumbled as shuffled through more parchments, scanning quickly for the right clauses. "I'm flattered you want me to defend you, Treike, but..."

She sighed and turned around. "It doesn't look good. Witness accounts won't help so much, and there are only a handful of laws relating to Alliance-Horde battlegrounds. It's something Stormwind wishes to leave partially buried, I am afraid."

"Of course. That battle should never have happened." Treike bowed his head sorrowfully.

"Don't get melancholy on us now, my friend." Ashind said warningly. "We have enough to deal with already if we want to keep you out of Staghelm's hands."

"And I have to hide out here until the Sentinels find me."

Silvanna shook her head. "No. I did in fact send that message to Lady Tyrande, Treike. It wasn't a fake. It was a signal. She had already granted me permission to keep you here."

"And Staghelm believes you are still in the Iron Barrow...where he cannot go. State law prohibits the Cenarion Circle from entering the prison." Ashind grinned. "My mate is a genius, eh?"

"Oh, and I just remembered..." Silvanna rose and briefly stepped into the next room.

She handed Treike his horned willow staff as she walked back to the table. "Here."

The druid was pleased to see it again and leant it by the bench.

"Now..." Silvanna ruffled through some more papers.

And for the next few hours, they sat, talking. Going over the details of the incident three years ago in the Outland Netherstorm. Discussing how to argue in the trial. How to plead and justify.

How to convince Darnassus, and probably all the Alliance, that a war criminal was not a war criminal.

* * *

The air was dark, cool and misty around the two draenei as they stepped off the midnight boat onto the Ruth'theran dock.

The tall blue male - a paladin the sentries could see from the heavy gold-inlaid plate he wore and the crystal hammer strapped across his back - trotted easily towards the village, a broad smile creasing his handsome face and tightening his tendrils around his shoulders. His foxtail swayed behind his crested forehead as he walked.

His companion, the gray female, had her eyes cast down as she walked beside him, seeming to be listening to the quiet lap of the waves and the rustle of the night wind. Her mail armor did not even seem to jingle as she walked silently, her short hair parted behind her backward-sloping horns and her white eyes glazed in communion with the spirits. The long scar cut up and across her throat to join the lower edge of her full lips.

"We always seem to return to Teldrassil in the dark, don't we, Hizeme?" the paladin asked her lightly in his burred Draenei accent.

The woman's eyes unglazed and she looked at her companion before raising one hand and uncurling her smallest finger.

_Always._

Qaliqqu smiled. Her gestures and expressions were becoming easier for him understand. He knew his shaman companion could whisper in his ear with the aid of the Spirit of Wind, but it must have been bothersome for her to do so on every little occasion she needed.

As the two draenei trotted towards the portal to Darnassus, Qaliqqu became aware of the absence of hostile glares from the sentries. Apparently, with the increasing closeness between the draenei and the night elves following the Exodar's crash almost three years ago, they no longer compared them to the disgusting Eredar they unfortunately resembled.

Hizeme seemed to grimace as they reappeared in the city, shaking slightly on her hooves before straightening and stepping forward. The shaman would probably never get used to that. She never even enjoyed using the magical hearthstones the Alliance had given them.

Darnassus was alive and bustling at this time of night, with night elves and other Alliance citizens milling through the cobblestoned streets. Qaliqqu was not used to the towering Ancients he saw protecting the city. It was a vast change from the clean, sculpted draenei architecture of Azuremyst. But then again, their settlements were all relatively new, Qaliqqu reminded himself. Maybe in a few generations, their settlements would seem just as worn and busy as this night elf city.

If, he reminded himself again, they all survived that long...

_The Light. I must have faith..._

Hizeme, not surprisingly, remained silent as they began the walk to the Craftsmens' Terrace. They had responded to Silvanna's summons, and considering the letter they had received, how could they not have?

The paladin swore he would do anything he could to help Treike in this. After all the druid had done for the Alliance, for the draenei, for the naaru, Qaliqqu would do a lot more than testify as a witness if it meant keeping him from being jailed as a criminal or worse.

His companion - he didn't need to ask; he knew Hizeme would speak volumes in court even if she was mute.

_Hold!_

Qaliqqu stumbled and almost fell over. It was an unpleasant shock when he was thinking.

He glared at his companion slightly. "Did you have to do that so suddenly?"

Hizeme scowled before she quickly took his elbow and pulled him along. Qaliqqu was surprised.

Her expression tightened.

_We are being followed._

The whisper in the paladin's ear immediately made him tense. The strange 'spirits' seemed to help Hizeme in ways he couldn't fathom.

"Where?" he whispered lowly.

Hizeme gave a small, almost imperceptible jerk of her head backwards. She took his arm fully, as if she were his beloved, and began to take the lead. Catching on, Qaliqqu allowed her to lead him to the shore of the Darnassian lake.

* * *

The two draenei sat on a wooden bench before the Darnassian lake. If Qaliqqu had not been alerted to the presence of followers, he would have taken the time to marvel at the beauty of the night elf city.

Sure enough, within moments, he heard the gentle crunch of leaves on the bare earth behind them. They were being approached.

"I see you noticed me," a light, feminine voice said behind them, a hint of laughter playing on her tone.

Hizeme and Qaliqqu turned their heads, and Qaliqqu let the air out of his chest.

It was Sheela Halstronn, a human rogue he remembered from what remained of Draenor. She was an agent of the reclusive Stormwind organization the paladin remembered as the quizzically-named 'SI:7'...whatever that meant.

Hizeme rose and Qaliqqu nodded at her, smiling. "Blessings of the naaru, Sheela. It has been a long time."

The she-rogue smiled back. "I'm sorry, Qaliqqu, and to you, Hizeme. I just couldn't resist. Did you come here for the trial too?"

The paladin nodded. "Yes. We received Silvanna's message early this morning. Luckily, there was just enough time to board the next ship to Teldrassil. We were on our way to the Evernight Ancient just now."

"Alas, I also," the black-linen-clad woman replied, shaking her head and rustling her mop of fiery red hair. Qaliqqu noticed she must have been uncomfortable without her leather armor or even her knife. Fatigue lines on her pale face and the permanent dark circles around her green eyes only exaggerated the uneasiness. "Poor Treike. I really hoped this wouldn't happen, but it seems the night elves won't leave anyone out of their political games."

Hizeme gave Sheela a mocking look, and the rogue caught on before chuckling dryly. "Yes, hypocrites, aren't we?"

* * *

Silvanna had hardly had time to open the door before the three odd visitors came barrelling in.

"Ashind! My friend, how in the Nether are you?" Qaliqqu grinned before clasping the hunter's hand.

Ashind smiled widely at the draenei paladin. "I can see you're doing better than us, Qaliqqu. Welcome back to our home."

Sheela stepped over to Silvanna and embraced her briefly. "It's good to see you, Silvy."

"Ack, you piglet! You know I hate that name," the night elf drawled before returning her hug.

Hizeme said nothing of course, looking around with her brow furrowed.

"Oh yes...hello, Hizeme," Ashind said. "He's upstairs. Communing with the Emerald Dream."

She straightened and bowed, smiling slightly as Silvanna approached her.

"By Elune, Hizeme, you look absolutely exhausted! Why don't you all join us in the lounge for refreshments? I bought several bottles of moonberry just the other night..."

At that, their eyes all brightened, especially Sheela, whom Ashind and Silvanna knew had a deep taste for the night elf vintage.

* * *

Sitting on the second floor, the small company sipped their drinks and listened as Silvanna recounted what had happened. Treike had not joined them yet, still slumbering in the Dream, and given the nature of what they were discussing, it was a silent agreement among the others it was best he stayed that way for now.

The draenei paladin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a habit picked up from humans. "It is most unfortunate that your Arch Druid chooses to press these matters, Silvanna. He must have an idea of what occurred, yet he still has the insensitivity to press charges..."

Silvanna grimaced. "I'm afraid empathy has never been his strong point, Qaliqqu. For as long as I can remember it has been all or nothing for Fandral Staghelm...and I imagine the woes of a single druid wouldn't count as much as his struggle for political power."

Sheela piped up. "Still...Treike _is_ just one druid, Silvy. A powerful one, sure. But still, why would Staghelm go to so much trouble to remove his own druids one by one?"

She groaned. "That's a good question, Sheela. Even I don't know the exact reason why he would remove so many specific druids, even if they are supporters of Lady Tyrande and Shan'do Stormrage."

Qaliqqu twisted his tendrils in thought. "Perhaps it is his...what do you call it...lineage?"

"Utter rubbish!" Ashind snarled, clenching his fist. "Any old fool knows evil isn't born; it's made! Being Shadowfury has nothing to do with it. I lived with his family, for Cenarius' sake!"

Silvanna raised one eyebrow at her mate's outburst. "Don't worry," she assured their guests. "He always acts that way when someone mentions Treike's family disgrace."

Ashind grimaced, and cast Qaliqqu an apologetic look before staring down at Prowl.

Catching Sheela and Hizeme's puzzled looks, Silvanna explained, "The Shadowfury family...well, Treike's ancestor was...a demon hunter."

Seeing the glimmer enter the draenei's eyes, she hurriedly went on, "No, not the blood elf ones we fought in Outland. A true demon hunter, a night elf. They're still considered dangerous in our society. As were all who agreed with the Betrayer..."

"I don't know what the family's name was before, and I don't think Treike does either, but as the story goes, one powerful Highborne mage lost most of his family to the Burning Legion, and disappeared until he re-emerged as a demon hunter several years later. He changed his name to Shadowfury."

Ashind nodded. "That's right...though the story claims Shadowfury expected his curse to die with him...it wasn't until he returned to the night elves that he found his dead mate had given him a son..."

"And so the Shadowfury line was born..." Qaliqqu said with a heavy sigh. "It is little wonder that Treike doesn't tell people his full name. What happened to the demon hunter Shadowfury? Did he die?"

Silvanna spread her hands. "Vanished. The last we heard of him he was supposedly in Silithus...but there haven't been any sightings for years."

Hizeme shook her head, tapping one hoof against the floor.

Qaliqqu nodded. "Yes...it makes no sense. But I suppose that wouldn't matter to one sounding like this Staghelm..."

A familiar voice from the archway startled them all. "Indeed, Qaliqqu...but unfortunately there's nothing we can do."

The two draenei and the human immediately rose as Treike entered, rubbing his eyes and shuffling forward to greet them. "It's been a long while, my friends."

Qaliqqu clasped Treike's hands warmly. "Well met, Kaltreike! You can't imagine how glad I am to see you!"

"Likewise," replied the druid without changing expression, but the paladin knew the lukewarm attitude was the best he could manage. "I appreciate you answering Silvanna's summons."

"It was the least I could do...for the night elf who saved my life."

Hizeme, of course, didn't say a word, but she immediately stomped over to Treike and glared at him accusingly until he took her into his arms.

"Hizeme..." he said as she leaned on his shoulder. Her tail swayed slightly from side to side.

Sheela looked in the other direction uneasily until Treike released Hizeme and approached her. "Hello, Sheela. Are you still stalking us?"

She chuckled slightly. "Don't get any funny ideas, buster! I could have just refused, you know."

"And I'm glad you didn't." Treike took her hand and squeezed it briefly. "What would I do without a good rogue to watch my back?"

Silvanna poked her mate in the ribs. "Are you taking notes, Ashind?"

"Me?" the hunter sounded surprised. Then his eyes glinted and he smirked at her. "If you want me to learn how to treat draenei and human women like princesses, then I suppose I'll oblige, my dear."

_Wham!_

Qaliqqu cleared his throat uncomfortably as he caught the teetering Ashind. "Perhaps we should return to the topic at hand, friends?"

* * *

"So this is all we can do?" Qaliqqu said, shaking his head glumly. "It hardly sounds like we can help much."

Silvanna shook her head. "There is nothing for it. A guilty plea would have him imprisoned, and less testimony would mean almost no defense at all..."

Sheela shook her head. "It's a shame," she said, rubbing her temples. "If there was only some way to prove it...prove what really happened out there."

The two druids glanced at her. "There may actually be someone else testifying in the trial as well, Sheela..." Silvanna said slowly. "It won't do much for our reputation, but it will help our credibility..."

* * *

The large, green creature hobbled over to the Temple, large feet thumping on the stones as he followed the pathway to the Temple of the Moon.

Ambassador Katharr could feel the hostile glares from the guards, but did his best to ignore it. He was here to fix that problem after all. He had diplomatic immunity – these night elves would incite the wrath of their own people if they touched him...

The orc heard the steady murmur grow around him, as he ascended the steps and bowed slowly before Lady Whisperwind's throne.

* * *

Author: Next chapter up soon. A small surprise for the bigger WoW ficcies too. Hold tight until then. We'll finally see what happened and why Treike is on trial. Until then, love you all readers. Please leave a review if you like.

Jim'Van


	4. The Trial Begins

Disclaimer: _Jim'Van khong co tro choi World of Warcraft hay chuyen nao WoW ca. Gia Jim'Van co WoW, thi Jim'Van khong viet fanfiction. Co dung khong?_

Author: OK, OK, so it looks like this may be a longer part of the story than I thought. So sue me. I'll have the rest up and running as soon as I can. Not only am I doing university languages now, but editing for a news site too. But I couldn't be happier since the conspiring bureaucrats of modern expat business haven't stopped me from living and working here. I'd say, dear ficcies, a happy man writes better fics, eh?

Anyway, in this chapter, Treike's trial begins, and the nature of his so-called crime finally becomes clear.

Oh, and the character of Alaric Jadefern is a fanfic creation of Talia Mirai, used with her permission.

Next chapter, it may go to a flashback scene. On with the fic!

* * *

Chapter 4: The Trial Begins

There was already a large crowd gathered beneath the ancients by the time they arrived. In accordance with night elf tradition, a large circle had been chalked into the ground before the great tree in which the bank of Darnassus rested. The inner circles had been chalked in a specific pattern to represent the face of Elune herself. Not common white chalk, but a silvery herbal powder concocted to catch the beams of the night's full moon and respond with a gentle glow.

A large, wooden dais had been planted – or grown - before the trees and the waiting crowd of humans, night elves, dwarves, and even a few gnomes and draenei sat watching. Leaves drifted down silently to land in the lake, mixing with the croaking of frogs and the chirping of crickets in the night.

Every tree, animal, and spirit present was completely unaware their peaceful nocturnal orchestra was about to be irreparably disturbed.

As was customary in night elf society, crowds were allowed to witness legal proceedings as a public reminder of what law and society stood for. Trials were common enough in the society, and specific times for certain cases were often scheduled at convenient times to allow the public easy viewing...when the rulers decided the public should see it.

This evening was one such trial.

A loud horn suddenly sounded from the Cenarion Enclave and, with the rustling of feet and the murmur of intrigued populace, the crowd shuffled aside to allow a marching crowd access to the dais across the lake bridge from the Enclave.

Heading the detachment was a stocky, broad-shouldered druid. His head was marked with antlers, one of them nicked and broken upon its root. His face was marked, significantly, with glowing golden eyes, set deeply into thick-lidded sockets, and a short, fuzzy beard marked on either side with beaded braids. The golden eyes gave an aura of unflappable and eternal calm that only one blessed by the Dream could bear. Bone ornaments rattled in a necklace around his neck. Strangely, this druid barely looked out of his younger years, but the flowing ceremonial robes he wore indicated he had a high standing amongst the Cenarion Circle.

He and the following escort from the enclave stepped up to the dais, and the leader turned a precise, forty-five degree angle and stepped into the smaller, chalked circle to the right.

The Retribution. He was the prosecutor.

He stood in the circle with his arms folded, to wait for the next procession.

Barely a moment later, another horn sounded, and another procession marched up from the enclave, this time headed by Silvanna and Treike, the latter, as tradition dictated, with his wrists in chains.

Silvanna stepped up to the larger circle on the left side of the dais, and knelt on the stones for a long trial, while Treike himself stepped up to stand in the centre before the raised dais.

Immediately, a murmur rose up from the crowds. There were accusing looks and finger-pointing, and there were bewildered mutterings and one or two cries of recognition.

As Treike slowly looked around at the crowd, trying to keep his heart from starting to pound, he spied Lady Tyrande sitting on a raised sedan chair in the distance before the Temple of the Moon. A young priestess was talking to her urgently from the pathway below.

As he turned to his right, he caught the eye of the prosecutor. The druid regarded him with a stare of neither sympathy nor hostility. He wasn't familiar.

Treike could tell the odds were already against him.

At that moment, a third, final horn was sounded and a human woman appeared seemingly from nowhere behind the dais sitting at an ornate wooden table. A bell and a gavel rested before her. The woman appeared slender and her face was strangely ageless as humans went. But the gray hair and hard unflinching gaze belied the fact that she was neither a young woman nor a compassionate one.

She was one of the Alliance's most skilled and venerable judges. Rubella Irwen, born and raised in a noble family and educated in every facet of law. War crime court record greater than any other judge in Stormwind. Convicted and acquitted hundreds of Alliance warriors of war crimes, as well as mediating the charges and sentences against dozens of captured Horde officers.

Despite this, there were more than a few confused and discontented murmurs amongst the primarily-night-elf crowd who felt it was improper to have one of their citizens tried by a human in their own capital. This, unsurprisingly, was followed by the protests of the humans and dwarves who recognised her. The murmur gradually died down after a moment as the news spread.

And stopped altogether as she stood, raised the gavel and smacked it sharply on the table.

Despite the fact that the 'courtroom' was in fact out of doors at night, and the fact that the public gallery must have spanned the whole length of the inner circle of the Darnassian lake, the sharp _bang_ reverberated in the ears of every being present.

Rubella then spoke up in her strong, precise voice, which had also been magically amplified.

"_I call this court to order by the authority of His Majesty, King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind, and of Lady Tyrande Whisperwind of Darnassus!"_

Immediately, there was a hushing sound as many shushed their comrades to listen in.

She spoke again, her voice not betraying the fact that she was mostly unfamiliar with night elf ceremony.

"_With the Blessing of Elune, here this night under her pale stare, we will commence with the dispension of justice to the Whisper."_

There was a pleased muttering and a few appreciative smiles amongst the night elves for a moment before she spoke again.

"_Is the accused present?"_

When Treike spoke, he found his voice too had been amplified by the circle upon the ground on which he stood.

"_Kaltreike Shadowfury is present and able, Revered Magister."_

Rubella cleared her throat. _"Please address me as 'Your Honor', Lord Shadowfury. Members of the Alliance do not address the human judge as 'Revered.' Is the prosecution present?"_

The druid spoke up in a calm, deep voice. _"Alaric Jadefern is present, Your Honor."_

Not a familiar name. Who was he?

"_Is the defense present?"_

Silvanna. _"The defense is present and willing, Your Honor."_

"_Very well. Lord Shadowfury, you are charged this night as a war druid of high treason. Charges against you include negligence of duty, misuse of resources, insubordination, abuse of command, and mass murder. Possible convictions amount to execution. How do you plead to these charges?"_

Treike looked down at the stones sunken into the earth before the dais. There was nothing for it.

"_Not guilty, Your Honor."_

Rubella Irwen leaned back slightly in her chair. She fixed Treike with a steely gaze. _"You understand there are witnesses and evidence to disprove this plea, Kaltreike Shadowfury?"_

Treike nodded. _"Yes, Your Honor."_

At the news there was obviously going to be a long list of proceedings following, the crowd around the lake seemed to thin. Some were leaving to return to the city. Others huddled closer as the amplification of the Circle's voices fell slowly for the beginning of the examination.

Treike spared another glance around, but was slightly perplexed not to see Fandral Staghelm or Mathrengyl Bearwalker anywhere in sight. What was going on? He was certain he would have seen either of them.

Irwen spoke again. _"Very well. An overview of the events of this case concerns please, Lady Ravenoak."_

Huntress Ravenoak, appearing none too pleased at having been selected to carry out this duty, stepped up to the dais and handed a thick, rolled parchment to Magister Irwen, who unrolled it and began to read.

"_The accused is confirmed to have assumed command of a detachment of Alliance warriors roughly three years ago in the Netherstorm of Outland. Heavy meteorological and disturbance in the region and time between delivery of information makes exact date impossible to deduce."_

"_The accused, according to witness accounts and standing messages from superior officers in the region, disobeyed orders to attack patrols under the command of the Horde, went missing in action with his detachment for roughly a period of four days to a week, committed an unthinkable act by directly supplying the Horde enemy in the region with valuable Alliance commodities, and returned to storm and destroy the Alliance encampment from whence his questionable activities began."_

At this, an instant murmur ran through the crowd. There were even one or two cries of outrage and immediate screams for vengeance. Magister Irwen banged down her gavel smartly to stall the commotion before beginning.

"_Several items are worthy of prominence in this account: the accused Kaltreike Shadowfury was seen to have directly consorted with the Horde commander face-to-face, the Alliance encampment, nicknamed 'Netherborne', was a druidic-grown night elf settlement containing no few number of the druids' Cenarion Circle..."_

At that, there were more angry mutterings, and Treike could see that the prosecutor, Alaric Jadefern, had set his jaw.

"_...and finally that the accused left the scene of these crimes with a select few companions following this betrayal...unmolested and unperturbed by a large Horde detachment in the immediate area."_

This time the murmur rose to a cacophony of shouts of outrage and screamed demands for vigilante justice right there and then, and – Treike's heart sank – not only were the night elves, dwarves and humans screaming, but also the draenei and gnomes, the most patient creatures he had ever known.

Irwen banged her gavel twice more, and shouted for order, her voice returning to its prior volume at a magical word of command.

She fixed him with another hard glare. _"Evidence is overwhelming, Kaltreike Shadowfury, and throughout this recitation, I have seen no furious denial and even any visible distress on your part. You are either foolish, or you must have some amazing circumstances to share if you can claim you did not commit this list of crimes."_

Treike slowly nodded.

Magister Irwen cleared her throat again. _"Very well, the prosecution may begin the proposal for guilt."_

The prosecutor, Alaric Jadefern, began to speak slowly in a lowered volume. "The prosecution recommends a sentence of execution. Evidence listed is given in two forms: witness testimony, and battleground records."

A quick signal, and a young priestess ran up to him carrying a handful of documents he accepted and dismissed her. "These are the records chronicling the battle on all fronts in the Netherstorm. The reports detail the events leading up to the fall of Netherborne. Netherborne's records themselves were lost in the rubble, but the other Alliance commanders detailed the events quite thoroughly from the surrounding areas."

Magister Irwen gave a short nod. "Very well, if the defense has no objection, we will accept these records as evidence."

Silvanna slowly shook her head and spoke. "The defense has no objections, Your Honor."

Irwen received the documents from Jadefern via a courier and spread them out on her makeshift desk.

After a moment, she spoke again. "These documents are written in Common in accordance with Alliance High command regulations. The defense and I will review them as the case progresses. Alaric Jadefern, you may call your first witness to the stand."

Jadefern cleared his throat. "The prosecution, at first, wishes to call a witness to the stand to testify to Lord Shadowfury's activities closer to home, Your Honor."

On cue, Silvanna stood and raised an objection. "I protest against this! Kaltreike Shadowfury's activities in Darnassus, or even all of Azeroth, have no bearing on this case!"

Jadefern quickly cut in again, showing his first note of emotion in the trial. "Lady Silvanna Evernight! I am aware that his activities in the past have no bearing on the current unfortunate charges he may face, but I feel the court will be better able to understand Lord Shadowfury's possible motivations and character from this testimony."

"If you seek to undermine this court's neutrality in this crime, Lord Jadefern..."

Irwen interrupted. "The judge concedes the prosecution's point. This court should know more of the defendant's background to attempt to better understand his present situation for better or worse. Fear not, Lady Silvanna, for you also will have the chance to present witnesses when your turn comes. Lord Jadefern, you may bring in your witness."

_This can't be good,_ Treike thought.

At another signal from Jadefern, another young night elf emerged from the crowd, escorted by a sentinel, and made her way to the circle to stand behind Treike. He looked at her.

It was Letta Shadowfury. His cousin.

She was different from the last time he had seen her. She had always been carefree, bubbly, and full of life, her charm far overriding the stigma of her family name, but now her face looked drawn and frowning. Her light green hair was shorter as well, and she was wearing a simple white robe instead of her usual eye-watering cascade of bright colors. Treike smirked inside despite himself as he deduced a reluctant employment or mate.

As she stepped into the smallest circle in the moon-face behind him, Irwen spoke.

"Witness, please state your name and profession."

Letta slowly spoke in her high, slightly nasal voice. "I am Letta Shadowfury, Your Honor, mate to Baeran Bearmantle and charter-keeper of the Weaver's Guild."

_I knew it._ Treike wondered just what else about his erstwhile cousin had changed.

At the stares of so many present, Letta visibly swallowed and added "I am cousin to the accused...though we have not had much contact for a long while..."

Jadefern spoke up. "As per my request for you to testify, I believe there is a certain _reason_ for this, Revered Lady Letta?" he asked, deliberately omitting the hated family name.

Letta slowly nodded.

"And what is that, witness?" Magister Irwen asked in a neutral tone. "Please testify for us to the court."

Letta sounded slightly nervous and she spoke hurriedly (obviously a pre-prepared testimony she had made with prosecutor Jadefern).

"Kaltreike Shadowfury and I were friends as children - I remember he used to protect me from bullies and give me many treats whenever he visited my mother and father and I. But after he joined the Cenarion Circle, we drifted apart. I became a weaver girl, and during those next years I heard nothing from him. However, when he returned to our village, I barely knew him."

"How is that, witness?" Jadefern asked slowly.

"He was extremely...unstable," Letta said nervously. "Treike had changed. He looked excited and angry all the time. He looked spoke and acted like he felt like fighting the Burning Legion itself...all by himself."

Treike snorted lightly under his breath. _We were all young and foolish once._

Jadefern cleared his throat. "It sounds like he was indeed volatile, witness...can you perhaps tell us if he performed any...questionable actions during this time?"

Treike felt his stomach clench. _Here it comes..._

Letta slowly nodded. "Yes, Lord Jadefern...after a short while...he challenged Lord Malfurion Stormrage to a duel for leadership of the Cenarion Circle."

There was an immediate gasp from the crowd and newer, louder cries of outrage from all of the night elves, and even several other members of the Alliance races joined in. Treike could see Silvanna swallow as her fears about Letta's testimony were confirmed.

"_Order!_" Even Magister Irwen looked a little bewildered. "I take it the defendant lost this challenge?"

"_Of course!_" Alaric Jadefern exclaimed before Letta could say anything. He sounded slightly ruffled that the magister might even have thought of the other possibility.

She gave him a brief glare. "The witness will continue her testimony."

Letta slowly went on. Treike did not look at her. He knew any action from him would be restrained...not that he really wanted to do anything. Letta's words were true. He had indeed stupidly issued such a challenge to Arch Druid Stormrage in the past. Being young and foolish, he had taken his defeat rather badly. Stormrage had calmly advised him if he wished to become more powerful, he should seek a higher purpose than his own ambition.

Naturally, the Cenarion Circle had attempted to exile him for impertinence, but Malfurion and Tyrande had testified to his innocence and let him go free.

He suddenly noticed he had not been paying attention. Letta was obviously coming to the end of her testimony.

"Since his return from Outland..." Letta said, the name sounding strange on her quavering tongue. "...I only saw him once. He retrieved all of his family's property and gold before wishing me farewell and leaving Darnassus. By that time, he had changed yet again. He was so...cold, so empty. There was no more spirit...no more ambition...it was like nothing was inside him."

There were immediate mutterings amongst the crowd. Treike did not blame them.

"Ah...ahem. That is all." Letta said as Jadefern gave her a meaningful glance.

Irwen spoke again. "Thank you, witness. You have indeed given us a clearer notion of the accused."

_In some ways at least_, Treikethought.

"Lady Silvanna, you may cross-examine the witness."

Silvanna rose again. "Thank you, Magister Irwen. Lady Letta Shadowfury...thank you for a start, for agreeing to testify. I understand it must be difficult for you to be here for this."

Letta blinked, and then said "Yes, ah, thank you, Lady Silvanna. I admit this is indeed a little difficult..."

Silvanna leaned forward slightly. "Yes...let this court not attempt to hide the truth. The name Shadowfury must be difficult to bear at many times, especially when giving a testimony of an alleged war criminal by the same name..."

At that, Letta blinked again, and then started as Silvanna's double-meaning hit. Her eyes misted slightly.

"I object, Your Honor!" Jadefern interjected. "The defense is attempting to unsettle the witness!"

Irwen leaned back. "Agreed. Lady Silvanna, either make the point of this line of questioning, or desist from antagonizing the witness."

Silvanna nodded. "Yes, Your Honor. My apologies."

She cleared her throat. "Lady Shadowfury, you have mentioned that you were startled by the change in your cousin after he returned from the Emerald Dream. Tell me, did you see him often at that time?"

Letta shook her head. "No, very seldom."

Silvanna made a pyramid with her fingertips and gazed at Letta steadily. "How often, would you say?"

Letta hesitated. "I would say, maybe once every couple of years."

"And yet, you were familiar with the fact that he challenged Shan'do Stormrage?"

Letta paused again. "The whole community was aware. Word was brought to us."

Silvanna's eyes lit up. "You did not witness the challenge yourself?"

Jadefern raised an objection before she could answer. "Your Honor, the truth of this challenge is easily verifiable without Lady Shadowfury having witnessed it! The defense's question is quite pointless."

_In control, isn't he? This is not going well._

Silvanna shook her head. "The defense withdraws the question, your Honor. Rather, Lady Shadowfury, I would like to ask you if that volatile attitude which challenged the revered Shan'do was the same one you saw when he was headed to Outland?"

Letta shook her head. "No, when I met him after the Dark Portal reopened, he was different. Very quiet, and very nervous. I knew he was worried about the Burning Legion's return..."

Silvanna interrupted. "You did not mention such a meeting, Letta."

She shook her head. "It did not seem so important, Lady Silvanna."

Magister Irwen then spoke. "The differences in Lord Shadowfury from the time before and following the alleged crimes must not be omitted in this case, Lady Letta Shadowfury. Please do not omit such details again."

Silvanna then shook her head. "There is no need, Your Honor. I have no further questions. Now, may we proceed?"

Magister Irwen leaned back before answering. There was no doubt in Treike's mind that she already knew how long a night this was going to be. "Very well. In accordance with night elf tradition, 'May Elune smile upon you, Lady Letta Shadowfury.'"

"The Revered Magister Irwen is too kind," Letta murmured before turning and leaving in a hurry. Treike did not blame her.

Magister Irwen cleared her throat. "From what we have seen and heard, it seems that Lord Shadowfury has always been serving his own interests primarily. Alliance _war druid_ or not, it seems he has always sought his own prestige and glory. Does it seem so unbelievable he would turn on his comrades the instant a change of sides suited him?"

There was a general murmur of agreement from the audience, but Silvanna spoke up quickly.

"This proves nothing of the charges against him, Your Honor. I must insist the prosecution only submit witness accounts related to the matter at hand from now on!"

"Order," she decreed solemnly. "I am not insinuating we should declare a verdict merely from this account, Lady Evernight. I do agree to your point. Revered Lord Jadefern, there will only be witness accounts as related to the Outland disaster for the remainder of this trial."

The druid bowed. "As you wish, Your Honor. The prosecution would like to call the Alliance General in command of the doomed Netherstorm campaign, Lord Wolfrik Ironheart."

_The dwarf general. _If anyone could try to prove him guilty, he could.

The dwarf lumbered out of the crowd. He looked exactly like Treike remembered him. Same tight no-nonsense expression, same braided black beard, same burnished warriors' armor, same contemptful expression. Coupled with the large axe he still carried despite the guards' protests.

Glaring at Treike, who simply remained staring at him with his neck turned, the general stepped into the witness's circle.

"Would the witness state his name and profession?" Irwen asked perfunctorily.

The dwarf general slowly spoke. "37th Alliance General Wolfrik Ironheart of Ironforge, Yer Honor. And I'll do anythin' ta see tha' this traitorous piec'a slime loses his head fer this betrayal!" There was an immediate crescendo of agreement and cheering from the watching Alliance warriors.

Treike caught Silvanna's glare and knew she was already formulating a plan to call him up on that remark.

Irwen banged down her gavel. "Order! General Ironheart, I understand your disposition towards the accused, but please refrain from such remarks. A witness must not be declared hostile."

The dwarf muttered something so lowly the circle didn't amplify it, but Treike could probably guess what he'd said.

"Very well. The witness may begin his testimony as to the events that befell the night elf settlement of Netherborne in the Netherstorm campaign three years ago."

The dwarf cleared his throat loudly and with a tone that told everyone present to sit down and grab a tankard. Treike groaned under his breath. He knew how much dwarves loved to spin a yarn.

"It was one of our first major expansions, Yer Honor. Very shortly after the breakthrough into Outland. One of our parties managed ta carve a way through the Blade's Edge Mountains ta the Netherstorm. Of course, Kael'thas Sunstrider gave us a warm welcome, ya see..."

There was an angry muttering amongst the crowds. No-one wanted to hear that name.

The general went on. "This was befer the naaru an' the Scryers. We dinnae know better than to believe tha Horde blood elves in tha area were under Sunstrider. I'm afraid our fragile little truce with tha Horde, ah, sorta 'disintegrated' after we came under fire from Sunhawks."

There was a rumble. Treike snorted. It had "disintegrated" alright, if you could call a series of unprovoked ambushes on Horde forces a disintegration.

"I was headquartered at our first encampment, before the goblins and tha ethereals arrived, Yer Honor. We permitted the Cenarion Circle druids under our command to grow Netherborne near the Blade's Edge Mountains...as long as they kepta few Alliance soldiers there fer protection and fer medical treatment. Me records say clearly tha' Kaltray-kay Shaddafury here was one of tha' druids stationed a' Netherborne."

"We heard alla sudden tha' the Horde had also established a base near Netherborne. Storm's Rage, Fury of the Tempest or somethin'. Well, naturally, we wasted no time sendin' a garrison to Netherborne to help out."

_Garrison,_ Treike thought, remembering the attack plans on Tempest Rage the supposed 'garrison' had wasted no time drawing up.

"Afta a few days, we received a report sayin' the battle agains' the Horde was going well and they'd been pushed back ta their own settlement. They requested more supplies to continue the siege and expected the Horde ter fall in days! It woulda been a grand victory fer the Alliance fer certain!"

There was a rumble of approval from the audience.

"But...but afta a while we stopped gettin' reports...and then it all went wrong! When we dispatched messengers, they dinna return, and afta' a while, we decided ta summon a rogue to check out tha battle. The rogue tol' us there was no battle at the Horde settlement. Tempest Rage, curse the luck, was still standin' and our soldiers were all dead. The supplies were missin' too!"

There was a predictable groan among the audience. They had all loved the story, though it obviously would have ended disappointingly for them since the Horde base of Tempest Rage still stood in the Netherstorm to this day.

"We didnae understand how it coulda happened. Tha Horde were almos' dead and gone by tha' time they retreated ta their base. They never coulda destroyed a force that big without help." The general's craggy face then twisted in revulsion. "An'...o' course the cursed Horde are savages, especially those damned undead...but, but even they wouldna done what we found."

He spat in disgust. "The bodies o' the Alliance warriors had been ravaged, mutilated. Poor bastards, they were proud warriors...shouldna died like that. Looked like somma the poor devils had been hacked ter death."

Another murmur.

"Anyway, we foun' Netherborne a smokin' ruin when we sent another garrison. The whole tree had been almos' literally ripped outta the damned floating rock and left ta burn. By tha time we got there, there was nothin' left ta save. Almos' all of the night elves there were in the same condition as the army outside Tempest Rage."

He sighed. "The accused was one of tha few survivors we found. But...he refused to return with the others to our encampment. He just...transformed into a cat and vanished. One o' the other survivors, a night elf boy...he tol' us tha' that druid, Kaltray-k Shaddafury, was the one who killed 'em all."

Treike could feel his glare on the back of his head. There was an immediate growl from the watching audience.

"At first, Yer Honor, I shrugged the kid's accusation off. There was no way one single druid coulda taken out a whole battalion of Alliance soldiers as well as uproot all o' Netherborne, but...after some investigation, we foun' out where our supplies had gone. The Horde had 'em, and when we went through the waste crates they threw out...tha evidence suggested the cargo had been taken without a fight...and when we captured a Horde outrunner, the orc eventually squealed a traitor, a night elf, had delivered it to 'em, an' babbled some nonsense about demons an' such until we smacked him with the axe to shut him up."

"It didnae help that the otha' survivors just suddenly vanished too, and they were only found much later here in Azeroth...afta a while I decided to question tha' boy again. When we found him, he had some time to calm down...he told us the druids had been havin' some party or festival or some such...and then the accused returned with a few others he couldna have identified, and they tore tha whole place apart..."

"I began to believe the accused had betrayed the Alliance and collaborated with tha Horde to massacre the druids of Netherborne, Your Honor."

As the angry dwarf finished his story, Treike could hear the spiteful hissing and growling from the audience and he was sure more than a few were stroking their weapons.

Magister Irwen spoke sharply. "Order! Indeed, this is a very grim testimony, General Ironheart. You say most survivors you found evaded custody? Such an action would make no sense to loyal Alliance warriors. All the same, your prisoner's testimony and this night elf child you mentioned are the only evidence you bear to implicate Kaltreike Shadowfury in this alleged treason and mass murder?"

The general spat and nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid night elf tradition donna allow children to testify, Yer Honor..."

"Yes," Irwen cut across his speech. "I am aware of that. I assume the officers under your command can support this testimony? And the prisoner of war you mentioned?"

"Aye, Yer Honor, that they can," he nodded again. "Except...tha' prisoner...ya see, he...er..."

"No, Your Honor," Alaric Jadefern spoke up. "Unfortunately, that particular Horde prisoner, Garok, his name was, went mad in internment not too long ago, and threw himself off the edge of a cliff."

Irwen sighed. "Regrettable," she said perfunctorily.

_Indeed,_ Treike thought. That particular testimony might have worked out well for him.

She cleared her throat. "Very well, Silvanna, you may begin your cross-examination."

"General," Silvanna began solemnly. "You came to believe the accused was responsible for the destruction of Netherborne and the Alliance forces from witness accounts. Did either of these witnesses actually see the accused perform these deeds?"

The general shook his head. "Not the orc, bu' tha' boy did...certainly."

Silvanna probed. "Can you remember exactly what the boy said?"

The dwarf appeared to ponder for a moment, scratching his head before finally shaking it again. "Cannae recall all the details, bu' it is written down somewhere. Prob'ly in the records."

Jadefern immediately raised an objection. "I have the transcript of the boy's account here, Lady Silvanna, as recorded by the General himself in the war journal. Would you like to hear it?"

She nodded. "Your Honor?"

Irwen nodded. "Yes, I believe we should hear this. You may proceed, prosecutor."

The druid began to read. "Ahem... 'Nobody saw it coming. I had fallen asleep in the upper trunk of Netherborne waiting for my father to return. I had no choice but to go with him to Outland as I had no family. I assumed he was with the other druids below when it happened. The shouts and gleeful chanting were getting louder, and I began to think they were feasting. I was about to go down and satisfy my own stomach when I suddenly heard an explosion. I leapt from my bed and ran to the window. At first, I thought it must have been the fel orcs because I could see a swathe of red-skinned bodies below. But when I looked more closely, I could see the druids were all wearing red, and another, a night elf wearing a long black cloak and carrying a horned staff, was invoking the wrath of nature upon them. There were others too...Alliance warriors, humans, and a couple of draenei, were slaughtering the druids.'

'I began to fear for myself and for my father...he could have been down there under attack. I panicked and ran for the stairs, but...that was when it happened. I heard an enormous crack, and the room shifted and started to groan. I knew the tree was about to fall over and ran back to the bed to wrap myself in a blanket. The room fell over and I was thrown through the air.'

'When I woke up, a druid, he said his name was Treike, was standing over me. When I looked over, I saw Netherborne in pieces on the ground...and...the other elves, they were in pieces too. My leg hurt and I couldn't stand. He told me not to move and healed my leg with his powers. I thanked him, and then I asked him what had happened, and if he had seen my father. Had the traitors gone?'

'He didn't answer me at first, and looked at the dead druids near us, and then he told me, yes, the traitors were gone, and it was over. He didn't look too good, almost sick, and I could see he was wounded. He told me he was sorry about my father, and then I knew my father was gone. I started to cry, and he picked me up and gave me to one of the survivors, a night elf woman. She looked just as grim as he did.'

'But...then I noticed something. When the druid, Kaltreike Shadowfury, turned away from me...I saw he was wearing a cloak, the same color as the attacker I had seen from up in the tree. I almost screamed when he picked up a horned staff from the ground.'

'I didn't say anything after that. I didn't see Kaltreike for a while. He left somewhere. I overheard him talking about some supplies with his companions before he vanished. By the time he was back, I was sure he had been the attacker, but I didn't say anything because I thought he might kill me.'

'When an Alliance patrol arrived, he told us all to go to them, and I quickly swallowed my fear and ran to the closest human in armor I could see and pointed back at Kaltreike. I screamed 'he did it'!'

'The humans thought I was upset and tried to calm me down. The dwarf in charge demanded to know what had happened, but...this is the strange part, the druid in the black cloak shook his head, transformed into cat form and vanished.'"

A somber mood had descended on the area. Treike knew Silvanna would already have a counter-argument ready.

"This does not prove it was in fact the accused who did this, Honored General, nor if it were, if his actions were a mass murder..."

"_Objection!_ Lady Silvanna...what else could it possibly have been...providing it was in fact the accused who performed the slaughter the boy witnessed?" Jadefern said, smiling and spreading his hands.

Irwen pounded her gavel for another silencing thunderclap as the audience shouted its support for Jadefern. "_Order!_ Prosecutor Jadefern, resume your silence on rhetorical questioning. Lady Silvanna, continue your cross-examination...and please come to your point."

Silvanna bowed. "Certainly, Your Honor. Honored Ironheart, how did you deal with the boy who gave this account and the other survivors following your dispatch?"

The dwarf general frowned as he went back through his memory. "Tha' boy was deemed unstable and in severe trauma, an' we handed him o'er to a healer when we got back, lady. An' the others, well, we placed 'em under guard and tried to question 'em...but..." he paused and stroked his beard. "This is realla strange...mos' of 'em didnae wanna talk...they would on'y say they saw demons..."

"Demons?" Silvanna asked. Her voice remained neutral, but to the astute listener it was now much louder. "Please elaborate, General. I believe your orc prisoner said something similar..."

The dwarf shook his head. "I didnae hear too much about it. I pu' it down to trauma...it was the kinda nonsense you hear from people who've gone roun' the twist. Groans, babbling, the odd scream or two. Bu' they said...there had been demons at Netherborne."

Silvanna clucked her tongue loudly. "Your Honor, I find it curious this particular aspect of the incident has not yet been revealed or discussed."

"Are you insinuating, Lady Silvanna Evernight..." Irwen asked slowly. "That the accused was not in any way responsible for the massacre at Netherborne? That it was the work of the Burning Legion?"

"It cannae have been, Your Honor!" Ironheart interjected hotly. "My troops were holdin' tha Legion a' their forge camp. There's no way it coulda been them!"

"Not them perhaps, General..." Silvanna said. "But maybe their agents, their creations?"

Jadefern objected. "Lady Silvanna, that is nothing more than conjecture! The witness accounts have stated it was clearly Shadowfury and a group of followers who carried out the massacre! Moreover, if the Burning Legion or their underlings had performed the massacre, the land would have been blighted as well as destroyed. And no accounts say as such."

Silvanna responded immediately. "And yet we have seen no conclusive evidence that it was indeed Kaltreike Shadowfury who performed this act of treachery, nor the circumstances under which the massacre was performed, Lord Jadefern. For all we know, the murdering druid may have been killing invaders, not night elves, or even acting in self-defense."

Jadefern's lips parted and he bared his teeth, seeming to lose his composure finally. "I assume you have some evidence to support these wild theories, Lady Silvanna?"

She did not rise to the bait. "As I said, you have as of yet provided no conclusive evidence the traitor was the accused, Revered Jadefern."

The prosecutor's annoyance suddenly slipped from his face as quickly as it came. On the contrary, he was now smiling mildly.

Treike suddenly felt like that smile had punched him in the gut. This could only mean he _did_ in fact have some evidence.

"_Order!_" Rubella Irwen had apparently decided she had let their game of ball-toss go on long enough. "Lady Silvanna, at the moment, you can't provide anything but theories, as the prosecution has stated. And Lord Jadefern, I agree the time has come for decisive evidence. Please reveal to the court an exhibit...or another testimony, that can prove the accused guilty 'beyond reasonable doubt!'"

There was another hubbub, but this time it was Jadefern who raised his hand and signalled for silence. Once it died down in anticipation, he turned and beckoned to a black-hooded figure behind him. The human nodded and approached.

"Members of the court," Jadefern began. "I have called for a necromancer to commune with the spirits of the dead. Do you have any objection to a communal testimony from a Netherborne spirit, Your Honor?"

There was an immediate gasp from the crowd, Silvanna's eyes widened before hardening, and Irwen looked disturbed.

* * *

Author: Next part up soon, I hope. Love you all, readers!


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